


Suns and Snakes

by Ramzes



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-08
Updated: 2014-04-13
Packaged: 2018-01-11 14:21:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1174103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ramzes/pseuds/Ramzes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a series of small moments devoted to everyone's favourite pair of snakes. Not a multi-chaptered story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. At the Water Gardens

"I caught a fourth one," Elia said, victoriously. "I win."

Oberyn couldn't believe it. "You don't," he said and immediately decided that a little lie was more than worth it. He could not have Elia beat him in chasing fireflies. Sure, she had seen eight namedays to his seven but she was a _girl_. "This isn't a fourth one," he declared. "You only caught two before."

Elia looked at him indignantly. "I didn't!" she squealed in anger.

The Water Gardens rang with the voices of children who were now arguing whether it was Oberyn or Elia who had caught more fireflies. A few dogs started running in panic around. Servants came over to see what the din was about. And then, a voice that gave Oberyn a shiver. "What's going on? Aren't you supposed to be in bed, all of you, already?"

Oberyn bit his lip. He loved his brother but Doran scared him sometimes when he acted as if he was already sitting in their mother's place. Ever since he could remember, Oberyn had been able to tell when caught up in the act whether his brother scolded him because he felt he should, although his heart wasn't in it… and when Doran really, truly meant it. He was quite frightening when he did – and he had been in bad mood already when he came to the Water Gardens about an hour ago.

Sure enough, Doran's eyes immediately went to him. "What are you up to now, Oberyn?"

"He's cheating!"Elia called out indignantly. "He said I only caught two fireflies so he can win. But I didn't, Doran, there were three before…"

"I see," Doran interrupted and gave Oberyn the look the boy hated most – one of disappointment. "Why would you do such a thing, Oberyn? Do you want to make Elia unhappy?"

"No!" Oberyn denied passionately. He truly didn't want for his sister to feel bad. It was just that… well, it was a game and he had to win. Besides, Elia would surely lose tomorrow because Oberyn was just better at it. "They were truly two…"

"Oh no, they weren't," Doran interrupted and Oberyn swallowed. Doran couldn't know, could he? "Elia came to me each time she caught a firefly to show it to me. There were three, Oberyn, I counted. Actually, I wrote the numbers down because I don't trust you. Do you want to see them?"

"No," Oberyn said, angrily at being not only outplayed but outsmarted, too. He glared at Elia who smiled triumphantly.

All around them, noise erupted and scared the birds away from the blood orange trees in a flurry of wings and panicked squeaks.

"By the gods!" Doran exclaimed and ran his hands through his hair, irritated. "Can't one hear their own thoughts here? Keep silent and make me forget you're all here, or you're all going to bed. Starting with those two," he added, looking at his siblings pointedly.

In the sudden silence that followed, Oberyn turned his back to the other children and went off to sulk – silently. He hated it when Doran acted all grown up. It was more amusing when his brother told him stories, or took him to a ride and boosted him on his own stallion, or when he praised Oberyn for defeating boys much larger than himself in the pools. But sometimes, Doran had little time and even less patience for Oberyn and the boy heartily disliked him for that.

He shivered a little in his light robes and looked at the moon. It was almost full. He was quite tired. Maybe he should go to bed – and tomorrow, he would make things right with Elia. He would not apologize, of course…

Something glittering brought his attention to the grass. He looked down, right into the deepest blue eyes he had ever seen. The body glinted in golden and silver rings.

A broad smile split his face in two, from ear to ear. Snakes were something one just got used to in Dorne but that did not mean one had to like them. Oberyn knew for sure that very little of the children in the Water Gardens shared his liking for the creatures. Elia, for one, hated them wholeheartedly.

He looked down, frowning in concentration. No, it was not a poisonous sort. Good! He leaned over and wrapped the creature around his arm, to a loud hiss. The length of the arm barely sufficed.

Very cautiously, Oberyn sneaked into the living quarters. Darkness was his friend. The snake had clearly figured it had no use of hissing, so he had stopped. Grinning from ear to ear, Oberyn deposited the chain of silver and gold into his brother's bed and arranged the coverlet artfully, so nothing showed. It was for welcome, he decided as he hid at the terrace, waiting for Doran to come back. He relished the sound of the shriek that was to follow. After all, Doran had taken Elia's side against him and had threatened him with sending him to bed. He had it coming. But Doran didn't come back and he heard nothing.

He woke up a few times, slightly cold, and once he saw that the candles in the room were now lit and burning down. Doran had come back and was clearly reading or something. The snake must have escaped, Oberyn realized disappointed and decided to have just a little rest before he jumped over the railing to go to his own room.

He woke up to find himself being carried through the hallways. His bleary eyes found his brother's face very close to his own. "Aren't you sleeping?" he asked, now entirely sure and dejected. The snake _had_ escaped.

Doran laughed softly. "I am sleeping soundly and I am dreaming that Oberyn has paid me a night visit!"

"Oh," Oberyn said and closed his eyes.

"You are a very clever little snake, aren't you?" Doran said. His bad mood was clearly over and Oberyn smiled a little.

"I am," he said, just when Doran left him at the door of his own bedchamber.

"Sleep tight, little viper," his brother said and left.

Oberyn was on his way to do just that – until he climbed into bed and found something warm and slithery into the bedclothes with him.

He screamed and sprang up, bolting from the bed before he realized what it was.


	2. On the Road and Beoynd

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big thanks to you guys who reviewed!

_On the Road and Beyond_

The winding road was white with sun and their nostrils filled with the smell of smoking grass. In his heavy cloak, Oberyn fought the sleepiness threatening to overcome him, and stroked his horse, trying to keep him awake, too. Midday was hardly the best time to keep one's instincts honed but well, it was the perfect moment for an action like the one he was about to undertake… if a wheelhouse deigned to appear, that was it. Many people preferred traveling at night to avoid the heat.

"I cannot believe I let you talk me into this," his companion murmured and tugged at a lock of fair hair. "I must have been as mad as Baelor the Blessed."

"Take this hair back in," Oberyn hissed. If the other youth persisting in his carelessness, they could as well reveal their faces and don attires with their families' sigils, for hair this colour was quite rare in Dorne for people other than the members of House Dayne.

Arthur glared back. He was already regretting the idea, Oberyn could say. But it delighted the Prince to no end when he sometimes made the Dayne boy take part in his crazy plans. After all, Arthur had seen fifteen namedays, not fifty and sometimes, someone ought to remind him of this fact.

Still, he had to admit that cooking here, at the roadside not far away from Sunspear, cooking into those dark cloaks atop their no less tired horses – not their own sand steeds, of course – turned out to be far less exciting than he had expected it to be. Just as boring as Elia had predicted.

"Look!" There was a sudden excitement in Arthur's voice. He pointed a finger. A moment later, Oberyn also saw the small puff of dust tearing the white-hot mess of earth, air, and sky. A single wheelhouse appeared in the distance; when it came closer, they saw there were no men-at-arms around. Just the coachman.

Now, they could see what it felt like to be brigands. They gave each other thorough looks to make sure that their faces were hidden in the folds of the cloths they wore and spurred their horses on.

Arthur headed straight for the coachman, disarming him with barely any effort at all. Oberyn quickly tied the man's hands and feet and threw the door opened. His voice caught in his throat. Their victim was no other than Arianne Martell, his mother. On the other couch, Doran looked up from the pile of papers they had been discussing and looked straight at the intruders.

"How dare you!" the Princess burst out, proud as ever and not afraid in the least, despite the fact that there were no guards around.

Numb with shock, Oberyn could only stare at them in mute horror. Fortunately, Arthur came back to his senses and altering his voice as much as he could, demanded to relieve them of any valuables they carried; a moment later, Oberyn regained self-control and pointed his dagger at Doran's chest because that was what would be expected of a brigand, praying that his brother wouldn't do anything stupid. The flash of black eyes straight into his gave him a shiver but he held his ground as best as he could, praying that there was nothing of value in the wheelhouse.

Arianne Martell shrugged and took the golden necklace off her throat, throwing it contemptuously at their feet; Arthur leaned down to take it and Oberyn prayed that his hat would not fall down. "Enjoy them for now," the Princess spat. "For you will hang, that I promise you."

Oberyn looked around for something else he could take, for no true brigand would satisfy himself with a single token. His eyes went to the leather-bond box with golden edges that Doran kept his documents in and he motioned at it imperiously – at least he hoped it was imperiously, for the truth was that he was cold in horror. Why on earth had he led Arthur here to rob passengers, he could not remember. All he knew that once, long ago, the idea had been brilliant.

They barely made it to the nearest woods before they stopped their mounts, took the clothes off their faces and looked at each other, both pale and trembling. "Screw it all," Arthur breathed. "I cannot believe this luck of ours…"

"Come on," Oberyn interrupted. "They are headed for the Old Palace, Arthur. Come on! We have to get there before them. Quick! Doran gave me a very odd look, I think he recognized me."

Amazingly, Arthur managed to turn a shade paler. "I pray you're wrong," he managed and they headed for Sunspear as fast as their horses would allow, freezing with cold amidst the heat.

When they arrived – the situation was turning from bad to worse with remarkable speed, - they were met with animation and buzz. Servants hurried all around, snorting sand steeds were being tended. A fine black one tried to get to Oberyn who looked around for an apple, hoping to keep the animal calm and convince him not to show his presence to the new arrivals _. Come on, Nightheart, don't give me away,_ Oberyn prayed from his place in the corner as his father rushed past him, giving hurried orders and petting his disgruntled mount.

In the commotion, the two boys made it into the private chambers without being noticed – until they walked straight into Elia. One look at them, and she caught Oberyn by the hand and ushered both boys in her solar. "What happened?" she asked urgently and her eyes went all over them in fear. When she was satisfied that they were not harmed, she stood with her arms folded and a scowl on her face. "Your wonderful plans failed spectacularly, didn't they?" she asked, utterly content. "That's what you deserved, I have to say. Robbing some innocent travelers…"

"Not now, Elia," Oberyn interrupted, cursing himself for letting her overhear their conversation. While his sister would not give them away, she was no fun when it came to certain matters. She had been against this adventure, proclaiming it cruel and unfair, and was clearly satisfied with their misfortune. "We tried to rob Mother and Doran," he added.

Elia stared at him – and then burst out laughing. A moment later, they found themselves in her bathchamber, facing a full tub she had meant to bathe in. "It smells of roses," Arthur sputtered, mortified, making her smile wickedly but smelling of roses was better than smelling of brigands, so in they went.

When Arianne and Doran arrived, about an hour later, Elia and Oberyn met them, perfectly dressed and well-behaved. While Oberyn's immaculate finery made his father raise an eyebrow, Arianne was too angry by the news that had made her and her consort speed up their respective returns – and her encounter with the villains who had taken her necklace to notice. At least it wasn't a favourite of hers! Doran calmly reminded her that it could have been a lot worse – after all, who knew what this sort of people had in their minds. He gave Oberyn a fleeting look as he said it but it could have been by chance.

The younger Martell spent the day on tenterhooks, trying to find out whether his brother had truly recognized him. He couldn't ask, of course, and Doran certainly didn't raise the subject – but he made a polite conversation about Elia and Oberyn's day that could mean – or not – that he was trying to find out what his brother had been doing. And in the brief moments when there were no other people around, Doran looked at him with a mix of fondness, anger, and despair but that was an expression he often wore around Oberyn, too. How was he to find out the truth?

"I could ask him," Elia suggested and he glared at her. This damned sister of his knew that she couldn't. She was just mocking him. Not teasing. Mocking. She thought he was getting a small part of the punishment he deserved. Everyone was against him.

Maybe Doran didn't know, after all.

"Is something the matter?" their father asked, coming down the hallway. "What are you arguing about?"

"Nothing!" they replied at the same time and he shook his head.

"Then go and argue over nothing in the garden. The palace doesn't need to be entertained by your non-quarrel. I've heard that you've been too docile, Oberyn," he added. "I suppose it ought to end soon."

Did Doran think this way, too? Did he know? What he would do if he knew? He was usually quite patient where Oberyn's antics were concerned – but he had given his brother hell when he thought the misdemeanor was big enough. And what could be bigger than this unfortunate event?

On the other hand, he might not know.

Did he?

The day was dragging unbearably slowly. And it would be a few like this one – at least a few – until Oberyn could be certain that they were safe. Doran wasn't this smart, after all, and they had been well covered…

"The box if you please," his brother said as soon as Oberyn entered his bedchamber.

_Damn it, I knew it._

Doran seemed to take Oberyn's silence as an attempt to fake surprise. His eyes hardened. "You saw that I recognized you through the disguise, didn't you?" he said. "I can point out the other one, too, Arthur Dayne." His face was now taught, concerned. "Oberyn, you're going too far. I cannot have you roam the roads and rob our people just because you're bored."

Oberyn sighed and retrieved the box to place it in his brother's hands. "I didn't really want to take it, you know," he said by the way of apology. "I just had to."

"Of course you had to," Doran said drily. "I'll have to think of a proper punishment. I'll take care to inform you tomorrow of what it would be."

"But you won't tell Mother?"

Doran sighed and smiled a little despite himself. "It was never part of the plan. She'll have both of you flayed."

"Don't worry about that," Oberyn murmured. Between Doran's wicked brain and Elia's cold shoulder, they would be flayed all right. A deep feeling of relief filled him. At least now he knew the situation could not get any worse. And looking at Doran, he realized that his brother had purposely let him stay on edge all this long day through.

 


	3. The Flame That Warmed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, big thanks to everyone who left a review.

It was a cold clear day, for Dorne at least. The sun peeked at them from behind a curtain of heavy grey clouds before shyly drawing its forehead back again. The Summer Sea looked decidedly wintry, all thunderous roar and dark waves struggling to crush the coast under their sheer force. Even the trail the leaving ship left behind was dirty white, not sparkling as was common for ships leaving Sunspear.

"Was it because of me?"

Stunned, Doran looked away from the ship and his eyes fixed his younger brother with a mix of fondness and disbelief. Oberyn didn't look back, leaving Doran even more startled. _Each time I think I finally have his measure, he finds something new to surprise me with._ For all his masculine looks and undisputed strength, not to mention his notorious reputation, Oberyn looked just like the boy who had crept to Doran hundreds of times, defiant and hopeful to be forgiven for his latest offence. _Some things never change_ , Doran thought. Still, he was surprised that Oberyn even needed to ask the question. In his own mind, it was perfectly clear that what happened had nothing to do with his brother but well, that _was_ Oberyn. _Yes, that's pure Oberyn. Feeling guilt over something that he isn't the one to blame for and not an ounce of remorse over myriad of things he should have regretted_.

"I swear by the Seven, Oberyn, it's indeed a miracle that you can even walk around with this big head of yours. You might be surprised but you weren't quite _that_ important in my marriage. Mellario has plenty of grudges and grievances against me without your help, thank you."

Oberyn's relief was so blatant that Doran had to smile, for all the sadness this day and the ship turning into a small dot before his eyes brought him. Many of those who had fallen on the wrong side of Oberyn's temper – and deeds! – would have felt reassured, had they known that the cynical invincible Red Viper had a weakness of his own – his family. And that made Oberyn just as vulnerable as any other man.

* * *

The incredible din in the part of the Old Palace that was Oberyn's residence would have scared another man away long before he reached the solar. Oberyn, though, didn't mind the noise. He loved it. He _reveled_ in it. He took the sight in with a quick look because it was dangerous not to, then crossed the courtyard fast enough to get out of the way of the blades while Nym was doing her afternoon routine, although when he neared the building, he had to squat because he liked his head with two ears adjacent, thank you very much. On the bench near the door, Daemon Sand was peeling blood oranges and offering them to Tyene and Arianne. Oberyn shook his head and smiled a little, then schooled his face in stern expression. "How comes that I find my squire entertaining girls, lad? Don't you have my armour to polish? My spear to keep clean? My stallion to groom?"

The boy didn't look disturbed in the least. "Your armour is shining, my lord. Your spear is so clean that you can have a bite of it if you want. And your stallion is ready for a ride if you so wish."

The look in his blue eyes was calm and confident. Oberyn approved and congratulated himself on what he considered a success of his own. Daemon had come to him competent and willing to serve. He was a fast pupil but sometimes, Oberyn had despaired that he'd give the world a good blade and nothing more. One of his objectives was to teach Daemon to enjoy life and be as cocky as possible but at the same time, gain all the skills that made his cockiness justified. Oberyn didn't like timid people but truly, there was nothing more revolting than a swaggerer with nothing to back their swagger.

"We'll see," he said, a warning note to his voice, as he entered his chambers.

He heard Ellaria's soft tones even before he entered the solar. Thinking that one or more of her friends might be visiting, he was about to turn around and leave for a very important task he would think of in a minute – he was _not_ turning tail – but something made him enter. He saw Doran sitting in the upholstered chair across from Ellaria.

"Oh," he said, surprised. He hadn't seen his brother in a few weeks – Doran had undertaken a short journey to the desert to discuss things with the lords there – and although he had heard about his return a few hours ago, he had not expected to find him in the chaos that was his own residence, listening to Ellaria talking about… what had she been talking about, anyway? "How was your journey?"

Doran smiled. "I thought it was… interesting. Until I was treated to the excitement that is your household, I mean."

"Then why are you sitting amidst all this excitement?" Oberyn asked, more sharply than he had intended, for he was in no mood to put up with Doran's recriminations, as silent as they were. Doran had not been the only one dealing with lords who thought Dorne was not ruled as they thought it should.

His brother looked at him and cocked an eyebrow. "I came to take Arianne and Trystane to their chambers," he said. "Because it looks like they won't part with their cousins unless they are bodily removed." His face softened. "And I've been waiting for you."

All of a sudden, Oberyn realized what was going on. He looked aside, regretting his outburst already, and his eyes fell on Elia and Trystane who had found their way to Ellaria's feet and gone to sleep on the carpet holding hands. He briefly wondered whether she'd step over them, or nudge them aside as if they were puppies because as it was, she could not move from her chair.

"Stay and dine with us," Ellaria said. "You can take Arianne to her chambers later but I really don't see why Trystane should be moved. He can simply sleep in Elia's bedchamber."

Oberyn felt even more guilty when Doran readily accepted. With Ellaria in his life, he had forgotten what it felt like to return to home where there was no one waiting for you. He shook his head. No, that was not true. Prior to Ellaria, he had never desired to have someone to return to, yet now he could not imagine a life without her in his chambers, in his bed and life. She was a flame that did not burn but gave lovely warmth. Of course Doran would be attracted to it. Everyone was. Just being around Ellaria made people feel at ease. If something about his paramour surprised him, it was the fact that _he_ was attracted to her. He had never suspected that a kind heart could appeal to him so.

Ellaria rose to step over the children and go to the sideboard to fetch a third goblet for their wine but Doran, as gallant as ever, beat her to it. Frowning, Oberyn followed his movements. Something about them stirred a long forgotten memory of his time in the Citadel. Something about Doran was not right. He looked like someone in pain. Oberyn shook his head and decided that he was on the edge after dealing with the malcontents, seeing things that were not there.

Ellaria poured the wine. Doran smiled and raised his glass. "I think all of us have deserved it," he said.

His eyes were very tired, holding no joy at all but they were tranquil. His journey had been a success. Oberyn was suddenly scared that the only joy in his brother's life from now on might come from such achievements.

 


End file.
